Uncle Rudolf

The New York Times

Uncle Rudolf, in the end, is a novel about being placed in a false position by whims of fate, failures of foresight and the limitations of one's own talents. The book's actors, whether onstage or off, occupy these false positions as charitably as they can. Rudolf, trapped by his looks and talent into living a ''silly life'' that pays the bills but is entirely out of tune with his experience, and Andrew, devoted to his uncle with an ardor he can scarcely bring himself to name, stick with the reader in the way of all memorable fictional characters. Bailey's gift is to make us see them both as they are and as they might, in a better world, have been. — Michael Upchurch

Publishers Weekly

Part exile's lament and part psychological study, this brief novel by Bailey (Kitty & Virgil, etc.) explores the complicated, intense relationship between a Romanian lyric tenor and his adoring nephew during the years preceding and following WWII. Andrew Petrescu (later Peters) is seven in 1937 when his father-a Romanian debt collector who marries a woman with Jewish blood-finds the situation in Romania increasingly precarious and sends Andrew to live in England with his superbly talented Uncle Rudolf. Introducing Andrew to his freewheeling artistic world, Rudolf becomes the boy's de facto parent, adviser and mentor. The narrative then flashes back to Rudolf's musical education and his lucrative decision to sing commercially popular operettas, a choice that proves costly on a personal level when Rudolf regrets not pursuing a career in serious opera. As Andrew grows up, he becomes increasingly dependent on his uncle, to the extent that his brief marriage fails and he finds himself living vicariously through Rudolf's successes and failures. Bailey's unflinching depiction of Andrew's obsessive, nearly pathological love for his uncle is alternately moving and disturbing, and his gradual revelation of the fate of Andrew's parents adds an element of suspense to the story. The flamboyance of London theater life contrasts strikingly with the melancholia of exile and the horrors of war as Bailey plays masterfully with chiaroscuro in this moody, unsentimental novel. (Feb.) Copyright 2003 Reed Business Information.

Library Journal

Bailey, whose Gabriel's Lament and Peter Smart's Confessions were Booker Prize finalists, is truly a skilled writer. His latest has much to offer, telling the poignant tale of a young boy's escape from fascist Romania in the late 1930s to England. Now 70, Andrew is writing his memoirs about life in his adopted country with Uncle Rudolf, an internationally acclaimed operetta tenor. This contemplative, retrospective focus heightens the emotional weight of the events he recounts and gives power to this novel of exile and loss. Andrew had spent years wondering about his parents-until he learns that his mother was murdered by fascist thugs and that his father committed suicide soon after. He struggles his whole life with guilt about having left them for a life of luxury with his generous, outrageous, internationally beloved uncle. Bailey explores these emotions with considerable skill and sympathy and brings the historical milieu convincingly to life. Highly recommended for both public and academic libraries.-Patrick Sullivan, Manchester Community Coll., CT Copyright 2004 Reed Business Information.

Kirkus Reviews

An adoring nephew pays homage to his childhood savior, a star of European operettas, in a masterly, unsentimental evocation of childhood and exile. A train is taking a small boy and his affectionate but agitated father across snow-covered Romania. The boy's mother has mysteriously disappeared, and, in Paris, he will be sent on alone to his uncle in London. It's 1937, Romania is turning fascist, and seven-year-old Andrei Petrescu will now turn into Andrew Peters. Although he will never see his parents again, he'll get a magnificent welcome from Uncle Rudolf and his devoted entourage. Rudolf Peterson (formerly Rudi Petrescu) is one of Romania's most famous sons; his thrilling tenor and dashing good looks have made this consummate ladies' man as rich as Croesus. What matters for little Andrew, though, is his uncle's outpouring of love, which offsets Andrew's recurrent nightmares. The boy always comes first for Rudolf, even if it means displacing a hot blond so he can cuddle his nephew to sleep. Still, Andrew will understand, in good time, that his uncle's cheerful front hides a deep melancholy. Rudolf was once headed for great roles in grand opera, but he succumbed to the easy money of operettas, which he now views with contempt. It will be 11 years before Rudolf tells Andrew his parents' fate: his half-Jewish mother was raped and murdered by anti-Semites, and his father drowned himself in the Seine. Has Rudolf been overprotective? Not in Andrew's eyes, for, after his uncle's early retirement and a brief, joyless marriage of his own, he devotes himself entirely to Rudolf's business affairs, "the contented prisoner of his melancholy." His uncle's death changes nothing, and here Bailey allowsAndrew to slip too easily into the unlived life, that staple of English literary fiction. Veteran Bailey (Kitty and Virgil, 2000, etc.) navigates with economy and grace between two lives and among many time-frames. This British author's skills-and magic touch for showing love at work-make for a texture unusually rich.